Prongs Lives On
by CookieMonster
Summary: This story takes place a couple of years after Harry graduates from Hogwarts. PG-13 for romance. Please R&R if you find my fanfic interesting enough.
1. Melancholy Bells

Note: If anyone gets confused, Ida would have been Ron's wife. Ron died a couple of years after he graduated from Hogwarts. That's when the story takes place.  
  
Melancholy bells sounded at what would have been the happiest day of Ronald Weasley's   
life. Ida Bell, who was now crying in Molly Weasley's arms, would have been a radiant   
bride. And that empty space in everyone present's hearts should have not been there. As   
that empty space was where Ron Weasley, once smiling and joking, dwelled, a mere   
memory.  
  
Harry Potter came to the funeral, dressed in black robes, as was proper. He could still   
picture the day of Ron's death. Tears slid down his pale cheeks as the events reeled in his  
mind.  
  
Harry put up a courageous fight, just like his father James had. At the end, Voldemort  
had the upper hand. Harry was weak, practically lifeless. He could year the high, cold  
laugh. He expected to hear the words. Any minute now. He would be dead, probably  
forgotten within a few weeks. Because then the Boy who Lived would die. But there  
was no use. All was lost.  
But then something happened. His best friend, his very best friend, Ron, came to his  
defense. Ron was truly a Gryffindor. He was so brave, so courageous. Ron took out his  
wand, and put up just as courageous a fight as Harry had. But he would become just  
another one of Voldemort's victims. At least Voldemort had been decent. He had let   
Harry say something to Ron before he died. Harry could still remember the last words  
he spoke to Ron Weasley. "Look, Ron," He had said in a kind voice. "You got what you  
wanted in the end. Be proud. You've made a difference. You did something that none  
of your brothers would ever do. You fought Voldemort, Ron, and you were courageous."  
  
"Avada Kedavra!"  
  
Ron Weasley had died laughing.  
  
Harry's godfather sat down next to Harry. "A penny for your thoughts?" "My thoughts   
don't matter." "Ah, c'mon. I didn't know thoughts became so expensive!" Harry couldn't   
help himself. For the first time in a week, he smiled. And Sirius smiled back. "So?" He   
prompted. "Ron always felt he couldn't follow in his brothers' footsteps. He felt he was   
a failure, and that he would always be a failure." Sirius patted Harry's back and gave him  
a sad smile. "But he wasn't a failure. He got what he wanted, didn't he?" "That he did.   
But he never did get married. He didn't even have time to leave an heir behind him."  
  
Remus Lupin overheard. His eyes gleamed as he spoke. "But how could you be sure?"   
Sirius caught on quickly. He grinned. "Let's leave Harry to his misery. Shall we go and speak to Ida?" To their surprise, Harry got up. "I'll come with you." So the three of them   
made their way, through the sobbing crowd, to Ida Bell, who was blowing her nose on  
a handkerchief that Ron had gotten her. She looked up, bleary-eyed, and saw Sirius,  
Harry, and Remus. "Yes?" She asked and blew her nose again. "Ida... We were   
wondering..." Harry blushed, so Remus took over for him. "Are you pregnant?"   
  
For a second they saw a hint of Ida's usual sunny self reflecting through her eyes. "If you  
must know, I am." She became bleary-eyed again. "Oh, but she won't have a father.."   
"She?" Sirius was amused. "How can you be sure?" "Oh, I know some spells that would   
impress even you." Her eyes twinkled as she said it. Sirius blushed, and the three of them  
moved on to comfort Molly. 


	2. Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs

Several days later, Harry was enjoying the quiet of his small Hogsmeade apartment. He  
looked across the room, where a bed stood empty. Harry started thinking about Ron,   
and, among other things, Voldemort. "I wish I had a pensieve now.." He said to himself.  
  
Just then Sirius appeared next to Harry. "I know you often get lost in your thoughts, but I  
had no idea you also talk to yourself." His feeble attempt to cheer Harry up worked.   
"Hello, Sirius, what brings you here?" "Well, you. You're my godson." Suddenly Harry  
jumped up and ran to his closet. He dived in, landing on his dirty laundry. Ron used to do  
the laundry. Stop it, Harry told himself. He's dead. Harry rummaged around in his closet  
until he found what he was looking for. It was a battered old photo album, and it was   
filled with pictures of Harry's parents. Harry opened the photo album and pointed to a   
moving picture of a man with jet-black hair and brown eyes. "Tell me about my father."  
He demanded.  
  
Sirius looked taken aback. He looked at the picture, recognition coming over him.   
"James." He said quietly. "You want me to tell you about James." "Yes." Harry stood  
firm. Suddenly Sirius smiled. Now Harry was surprised.  
  
"Harry, there's nothing to know about your father that you don't already know. You   
remind me of your father so much, he lives in you. He is you, in a sense. It's time to leave  
the past behind, where it belongs. It's time I called you by the name your father would   
have liked me to call you. It's time I called you Prongs."  
  
Harry had never been more surprised before in his life. Nevertheless, he felt honored.   
Prongs. Harry sighed, fingering the steel edge of the photo album. Prongs. Harry's father.  
A marauder, a troublemaker. Dead. His mother, too. For the second time that week, tears  
slid down Harry's cheeks. Sirius decided to leave him be, and disapparated.  
  
Once again in the calm quiet of his apartment, Harry thought of Ron's funeral. Someone  
was missing. Someone hadn't come. A key figure in Ron's life. Where was she? Where was  
Hermione? She wouldn't miss Harry's funeral. Or would she? Was Ron so mad about her   
running off with that professor that they decided never to see each other again? But   
wouldn't Molly have written to her? Lost in thoughts, Harry fell asleep.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
He was woken up by someone who was knocking on his door. Harry got out of bed, put  
on his glasses, and changed groggily. The person at the door kept knocking. Harry opened  
the door, and was shocked to see Hermione standing there, her hair sopping wet, with no  
professor at her side. Harry's jaw must have dropped to the floor. The wonders never   
cease this week, he thought to himself. Hermione sat in a comfy blue accent chair and   
helped herself to some hot tea. She motioned for Harry to sit down next to her. "Harry,  
why didn't you tell me?" She asked quietly. "I thought someone would've told you. If not Dumbledore, then Molly." Hermione sighed. "Nobody told me anything. I just packed my  
bags, left Arthur, and came to see you." "He died laughing, Hermione." The two of them   
sat there, a sad silence around them.  
  
Finally Hermione broke the silence. "How's Ida?" "It's hard on her. She's pregnant."   
"What?" Hermione exclaimed. "Poor dear. The baby won't have a father. He or she  
won't even have a memory.. They will never see Ron.." Hermione looked like she was  
about to cry. "Death can't be a daughter's proud father." She burst into tears. Harry knew  
that neither of them would ever forget Ron. Ron had always wanted to be remembered for  
something. Harry and Hermione would make sure he wouldn't be forgotten.  



	3. Her

Harry thought of Ron's death less and less in the weeks that followed. He never forgot the best friend he ever had, though.  
  
Now that Harry was a bit less depressed, he had time for girls. He hadn't had a girlfriend   
for a year already.  
  
Harry walked around Hogsmeade often, hoping to find the girl of his dreams. On one of  
his walks he came across a tiny, hurt owl. Not knowing what to do, Harry stared at the  
little creature sadly and walked away. Suddenly he heard a voice so comforting, it must   
have been the voice of an angel.   
  
Harry turned around.  
  
And Harry saw Chloe.  
  
Harry was a believer in true love. When he saw Chloe, he knew she was the one.   
Nobody else made him laugh like that, and nobody else ignited such sparks. Nobody  
else's kisses were so passionate. Harry trusted Chloe with his life, and Chloe trusted  
Harry with hers.   
  
Sirius approved of this "match made in heaven", as he called it. Harry and Chloe were  
perfect for each other. Not to mention that Chloe was the prettiest flower of the field. Her  
blue eyes twinkled when she laughed, and her long red hair fluttered in the light breeze.   
Harry thought she was the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth.  
Chloe thought he was the most handsome man on the face of the earth.  
Soon enough, Harry decided that it was time for Chloe to meet his friends.  
  
Remus was so happy to meet Chloe. He stood there and told her, over and over, what  
a perfect couple she and Harry made. She smiled, she was so beautiful when she smiled.  
"We're not perfect. Perfect couples don't last." Molly Weasley hugged Chloe tight and   
close. "You will be my daughter-in-law, I'm sure of it." Harry grinned at Molly, who winked back. Percy greeted Chloe politely, and asked Harry if she was a Head Girl or  
at least a Prefect. Harry just rolled his eyes and turned to Fred and Gorge, who winked  
at him and gave him a thumbs-up sign. Dobby shook Chloe's hand energetically (very  
energetically), and gave her a pair of his socks as a keepsake. Chloe thanked him with that beautiful voice of hers. Hermione simply loved Chloe, and they spent   
hours talking to each other. They were inseparable. Arthur, Hermione's husband, was  
beginning to worry who exactly Chloe might be marrying, Harry or Hermione. Chloe   
laughed so hard when she heard this, she fell off her chair. And Harry, the perfect  
gentleman, caught her.  
  
Slowly, Harry and Chloe grew closer. Harry moved into Chloe's extravagant poolside  
house. He no longer felt lonely and depressed. He was quite happy, actually. He was  
in love. He felt like he was walking on an endless, fluffy cloud.  
  
In mid-March, Harry and Chloe received an invitation in the mail. At first, Harry thought   
it was a joke.  
  
We would be honoured to have you join us  
At the wedding of our two very special pairs of twins  
Ride a limo, or take the Knight Bus,  
Come bearing gifts, or come bearing grins.  
  
Fred and Georgia,  
Freida and George,  
Are the happy couples,  
They come in doubles!  
  
Harry, please be our best man,  
Our sister is your biggest fan,  
Don't disappoint us, say you'll be there,  
You'd better find Chloe a dressie to wear!  
  
Chloe gave Harry a relaxing massage as an excuse to look over his shoulder. "Fred,   
Georgia, Freida, and George? Sounds like the class clowns are tying the knot." "Yes."   
Harry said happily.  
  
The wedding would be perfect. He would take her outside, to the beautiful garden.   
He would kneel beside her, holding the ring. And he would propose. If she said yes,  
Harry's world would be perfect.   
  
"Should we go?" Chloe's voice snapped him out of his fantasy proposal. "I think so."   
"We must get them a gift! Oh, I know! How about money that explodes, showering   
the crowd with confetti?" "And then I can give them their real gift?" "Exactly." The   
perfect team, they were. A match made in heaven. 


	4. The Class Clowns Tie the Knot

As the wedding drew nearer, Harry became more and more nervous. He had gone  
back out into the Muggle world to look for rings. Finally he had found the perfect  
one. It was silver with a perfect pearl in the middle of a perfect little knot. Judging  
from the fact that Chloe simply loved silver and pearls, it was perfect.*Where Alex stopped  
  
Harry had picked out a black tuxedo for the wedding. He wasn't really intent on  
making his hair lie flat, but whatever pleased Chloe was good enough for him.  
  
Chloe had picked out the prettiest of dresses. It was a baby pink, the color. She had   
found a matching tiara with pink rhinestones to go with the dress. She tried it on in front  
of the mirror countless times. Even modest Chloe had to admit that she looked stunning.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
The wedding came at last.   
  
Fred and George had never looked better. They were handsome young men, not silly  
boys. Harry smiled to himself. He knew that within a day they would go back to being  
mischievous troublemakers.  
  
Chloe went off to find Mrs. Weasley.   
  
Harry fingered the ring in his pocket. He hoped Chloe would like it.  
  
Fred and George came striding toward Harry. They looked so happy. "Ready  
to be our best man, Harry?" "You bet I am."   
  
The ceremony started. Tears of happiness stained Molly's cheeks as her daughter  
Ginny walked down the aisle. What a flowergirl she made!   
  
Harry dozed off listening to the reverend's endless droning. He quickly straightened  
up, not wanted to miss anything. Knowing Fred and George, they had something  
extravagant planned.  
  
And, sure enough, they did. As Georgia and Freida admired their wedding rings, they  
suddenly exploded. The crowd ooh'd and aah'd. Glittering paper hearts lay in the brides' hair. Fred and George slipped the real rings on their fingers, and the ceremony continued.  
********************************************************  
  
Harry had never been to a wizard wedding before. He had imagined owls, even cornish  
pixies jumping around with wedding rings tied to them, but nothing such as this.  
  
There were tasty dishes from all over the world. Exotic flower arrangements and ice sculptures of the brides and grooms could be seen on each table. The candles were of the  
sort that couldn't start a fire. And the mood was so romantic. The band that was playing at  
the wedding was playing a slow song. "May I have this dance?" Harry asked Chloe. "No,   
of course not!" She grinned at him playfully. She put both her arms around Harry's neck.  
They kept dancing, even when everyone else had stopped to eat and there was so music.  
Chloe rested her head on Harry's shoulders. Everyone stared at them. But they didn't care.  
They were walking on air.  
  
The evening progressed, and Harry and Chloe finally stopped dancing. They shared a  
sundae with whipped cream and a cherry on top. Harry decided that it was time.  
  
"Chloe, would you mind going outside with me for a minute?" "Of course."   
  
The two of them walked outside, hand in hand. Nightflowers were in bloom. Fireflies lit up the garden, creating a perfect romantic setting. They strolled through the garden  
silently, admiring its beauty.  
  
Then Harry finally did it. He knelt down in front of Chloe, grinning like mad. He took out  
the ring and held it out, case open. He looked up at Chloe, and any doubts that he had  
vanished. Life without Chloe wasn't worth living.   
  
Magic was in the air as Harry said the words. "Chloe, will you marry me?"  
  
Time stood still for a few seconds. Then Chloe, recovering from the initial shock, pulled   
Harry up so that he faced her. She looked straight into his radiant green eyes. For a   
second, Harry thought she would say no. But then, "Yes, Harry! Of course I'll marry   
you!"   
  
Harry swept Chloe into a passionate kiss. They stood there, in the semi-darkness, and to  
them there was nobody in the world but each other. One thing led to another, and soon   
they were both somewhere in the bushes, hidden from sight.   
  
**************************************************  
  
Morning dawned. Harry leaned over and woke Chloe with a kiss.  
  
"Good morning," She said cheerfully. Both she and Harry were covered with leaves. It   
seemed that a special shower of rose petals had fallen during the night, as Harry and Chloe  
were also covered with red rose petals. The fireflies had been replaced by glittering   
butterflies. Harry pushed one out of Chloe's hair, and it fluttered near the couple. Chloe grinned at Harry. He grinned back.  



End file.
